


When One Goes Down

by Blitzindite



Series: Prompt Me [19]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Knives, Major Character Injury, Possession, Sort Of, The others show up at the end, Violence, only schneep anti and central are prominant, sentient building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23355424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blitzindite/pseuds/Blitzindite
Summary: The screech and lunge were wholly what he expected and Henrik moved to meet him. Big hands found the glitch’s throat, catching him midair and shoving him into the floor with an audible crack of his skull against the tile.
Series: Prompt Me [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/936513
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	When One Goes Down

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled with this one. Anti is always tricky for me to write!  
> also, for reference: My Henrik is tall and built like a friggin' brick wall. Anti is a lot smaller and built for stealth/agility  
> -Main Verse  
> -  
> -  
> [Based off this image, which was a request](https://blitzindite.tumblr.com/post/613771208202354688/2-with-a-jackie-and-b-henrik) (blood warning)

The slice of a knife was traded with the blow of a fist. Anti was practically dancing around the larger man, ducking swinging fists with catlike reflexes, swiping his blade at the doctors arms, his back, his chest—whatever he could reach.

Henrik was gritting his teeth, spinning in dizzying circles to keep the glitch in his line of sight.

He could hear the others, pounding at the doors to the lab. They wouldn’t budge; Central was working against them. He could hear Marvin shouting through the walls, telling their home to snap out of whatever Anti had done to it—he couldn’t teleport into the room; when he tried, the building shifted its layout to send him somewhere else. Could Anti use his strings on it? Henrik shuddered to think of it. Who knows what the glitch could do to them if he decided to just control the building around them.

Fortunately, he thought, it took a lot of Anti’s focus. His swings were sloppy, the doctor had landed a number of blows on his face when dodges faltered. His nose looked broken and he had a black eye.

They bared teeth at each other. Anti’s were too sharp. Far too sharp.

“Wha̶t was it̷ ͏you sa͞i͏d? 'Whe͢n̡ onȩ go͘es͏ ͠down̵, th̷e͢y a͟ll g̵o dow̵n’?͝” The glitch tilted his head and traced his fingers over his own eyes in crude X’s—the same shape as the scars crossing Marvin’s eyes. “The po̡or ͜kitten los͏i̵ng his͞ sight..̴.”

Henrik cursed at him. At that point, he really wasn’t sure what language he was speaking.

The glitch only tutted, continued to circle him just out of arm’s reach. They both knew Henrik could snap him like a twig if he actually got his hands on the smaller Septic. Play it safe, bitch, he thought bitterly. The problem was actually getting his hands on the damn glitch; Anti was so much faster than him.

“Ou̵r dear creat̷or, com͝atose!”

Anti cackled as the doctor lunged at him, simply dissolving into a cloud of particles.

“Shut up!”

“One͞, tw͜o, thr͠ee̶, f̴our~ One-b̴y̛-one, ͢the͠ dominoe͝s _will_ fall.”

Henrik hissed through his teeth when the blade sliced through his shoulder. His white sleeve was stained with red and the glitch was twisting away, right back out of reach.

“You ͝should ͘b͟e brok̴en. Ni͢ne͠ m̴ont͏h̵s,͢ ͞Doctor. Nine͢ months. A̶nd ͏s̶till̵ you fight͡ me̛.” He stopped pacing and tapped the blunt of his blade under his right eye. “Su͏ch a prett̸y re͡place̕m͠en͏t, wouldn't you say?”

The doctor’s right eye—his glass eye—twitched at the memory.

“You say like is something to be proud of,” he said coldly. He brought a hand up to press against the gash in his shoulder; most of the blood on his knuckles wasn’t his own, however. “Even chained and weak, you could not pry my arms off your neck—nearly strangled in your own warehouse!” Despite the circumstances, he managed to huff a laugh. “Instead of slipping away like the slimy rat you are, you stab me in the eye like a little bitch. You blind Marvin when he is already down, you put our creator in a coma when he is already sick, and take all of the credit like is some incredible feat to kick us while we are down.”

The screech and lunge were wholly what he expected (the others clearly hadn’t, as the banging outside grew more frantic) and Henrik moved to meet him. Big hands found the glitch’s throat, catching him midair and shoving him into the floor with an audible _crack_ of his skull against the tile.

Henrik would probably never get this chance again. After this, Anti would remain static, drifting, as he controlled the house. After this, he’d never try and fight the others while holding poor Central under his strings. It would be one or the other, but never again both.

Henrik knew—he knew all too well—that Anti could release their home any moment and drive the knife into his chest.

But if he could end it—for their creator, Marvin, Jameson, all of them—he would. No more glitch. Wouldn’t that be nice?

He knelt with a knee pressed into Anti’s chest, one hand around his throat while the other wrestled for his knife.

A quick twist, and a few of Anti’s fingers snapped, forcing him to release the weapon.

A shaky breath, and Henrik raised the blade. Take off his head, he thought. That…would have to work, right?

When the light flickered, Henrik made the mistake of glancing up at it.

Anti dissolved into pixels—his knife along with him to leave the doctor staring at the spot of blood on the tiles where he’d been only a moment ago.

The building creaked. Confused. Questioning. Anti’s hold on it was failing.

Henrik feared he’d released Central on purpose.

“I ̛co̢ul͞d ki͠ll yo̵u͘…”

He wasn’t sure where the voice came from, now. He swallowed, turning slowly and watching the shadows.

“B̶ut I'd lose my͡ fav̨oritę pl͝aythin̛g.”

A shoe to the back of the leg forced him to kneel.

He could feel breath on his ear. “I ͏w̕ant y̕o͢u͘ ̧broke̢n.”

A scream broke in his throat as the knife was plunged into his back.

More banging, shouting, crying the doctor’s name—Central finally came to its senses and threw the lab doors open with so much force it put a hole in its own wall.

The blade twisted and was pushed deeper as he sobbed. He heard— _felt—_ a crunch. He desperately hoped he’d imagined it.

“ _Henrik!”_

Jackie. Jackie’s voice. He…never used Henrik’s first name. Not unless he was angry, or…or scared.

Henrik pried his eyes open. The room was spinning and he couldn’t see through his tears. Which one was Jackie? He couldn’t tell. They were all just…blobs of color.

The glitch had a hand tangled in his hair, claws at his throat—that’s why they weren’t making a move. They were shouting at Anti. Shouting…something. His mind was having a hard time registering their English. Or maybe it was the thumping of his own heart in his ears drowning them out.

Anti’s fingers tightened at his hair.

Henrik couldn’t find it in himself to fight back, pull away, when his legs wouldn’t cooperate. The others shouted something, then…

_Crack._ His head slammed into the edge of the cabinets and he fell limp even as the knife was torn out of his back.

Jackie reached his side first while Marvin used his magic to pull Anti away from them.

“Hen? Henrik?!”

He grabbed his friend, the nearest cloths (fortunately Henrik had left clean one on the counter, having forgotten to put them away; they were in easy reach) and pressed them against the doctor’s back. Henrik’s head lolled spinelessly against Jackie’s shoulder—he was out cold.

When the glitch tried to advance on them, Jackie, with tears pricking his eyes, jerked his head up and bared his teeth. “Take another step,” he growled. “I fucking _dare_ you.”

Marvin came from behind, bringing his cane up to choke the glitch with. The white plastic quickly turned red where it was pulled forcefully into the bleeding gash at Anti’s throat as the glitch clawed at whatever he could reach—mainly Marvin’s hands.

When he started to fizzle out, Chase took a potshot that landed a bullet in his knee, making the last thing they heard from him a distorted screech.

Jackie kept a handful of cloths pressed firmly to Henrik’s back, his other hand trying to dab away at the blood running down his forehead.

“Someone find Dr. Iplier. _Now.”_


End file.
